


It Always Ends Here

by incognitoinsomniac



Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: Found Family, Gen, M/M, Mild Language, Slice of Life, Slow Burn, Vignette
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-11
Updated: 2019-11-03
Packaged: 2020-08-18 20:28:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 11,168
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20197672
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/incognitoinsomniac/pseuds/incognitoinsomniac
Summary: A series of vignettes following Steve and Danny's lives from the initiation of the 5-0 task force to the present.





	1. Preface/1.1: Wrestled to the Dirt

# Preface – It Always Ends Here

Have you ever noticed Danny and Steve spend a lot of time at each other’s places? Well I did. And I thought it would be cute to write snap shots from either of their perspectives after each episode. I will try to stay as close to canon as possible, but this is a McDanno fic and I will work that in as it seems appropriate. I hope you all enjoy these vignettes as much as I did writing them.

I do not have a concrete updating schedule at this time. I will try to post 1-3 a week, but my work can get rather hectic, so I make no promises. I have historically been terrible at posting consistently. But I’m hoping the short chapter format of this project with help me stay consistent and improve my writing habits.

Every chapter title will be numbered “X.Y”; X being the season number and Y being the episode. There will sometimes be additional sub-chapters labeled as X.Y.a, which are intended to take place in between episodes but not necessarily directly after. I will incorporate some information on the reference episodes within each chapter, but by no means do the chapters stand on their own in terms of over-arching plot.

# Chapter 1.1: Wrestled to the Dirt

“No, I’m not gonna tell you anymore. You’ll just have to wait for Friday.” Danny wriggled past the screen door into his apartment while juggling the phone, his keys, and some takeout.

“Why?” Grace pouted on the other end of the phone.

“Because it’s a surprise. Now it’s time for bed. Kiss your mother goodnight. And remember that Danno loves you.”

Grace chirped a soft reply followed with a loud yawn. “Goodnight, Danno.” Then the line disconnected.

Danny collapsed on the pullout bed. The messy sheets were cool against his neck. He was exhausted. This week had been a whirlwind. New job, new people, two shootouts. He still wasn’t sure about this task force. Everything they had done the past few days was so far outside of proper procedure. He liked procedure. Procedure kept him safe. Kept him alive and out of jail. Absentmindedly, he reached for the bandage on his left arm and made sure it was still secure. It had only been a graze, but it was from a stupid firefight they shouldn’t have even been in. It could have been so much worse.

He didn’t like Steve McGarrett’s style. He didn’t like the risks he took. His shoot-first-worry-about-the-fallout-later mentality was going to get Danny killed. Maybe it came from being in the Seals. Maybe it was just to avenge his father. Danny knew he’d do just about anything to avenge his own family if he ever had to. But when all was said and done, he’d appreciate someone holding him back from going off the deep end. Maybe he could be that person for McGarrett. He’d have to be if he hoped to keep his job and stay alive to see his daughter graduate.

Reaching into his pocket he pulled out the folded hotel reservations. He could just imagine how stoked Grace would be to swim with dolphins. It was a big gift. Danny decided his new partner wasn’t the best at communicating but did have good intentions. He had thought Steve didn’t get it, but maybe he did. Maybe he could trust him. Danny wasn’t sure he had anything to back that up with other than his gut. But it was a strong feeling. And the only way forward was to trust it. Even if Steve was a cocky son of a bitch. And a clean freak.

What was so bad with his apartment anyway? He sat up and looked over to see clothes strewn on the overstuffed chair and dirty dishes on the side table. There was a mug on his TV. He didn’t remember leaving a mug on the TV. With a heavy sigh, he got up, placed the hotel reservation in a safe spot, and started tidying up his place. Admittedly, it was a bit of a wreck.


	2. 1.1.a: Talks Like He’s Ten Feet Tall

# Chapter 1.1.a: Talks Like He’s Ten Feet Tall

Danny drove up to Sergeant McGarrett’s house. As soon as he noticed the Camaro, Steve stopped moving a box out of his truck and put his hands on his hips.

As he parked and got out of the car, Steve shouted, “Hey Danny. What’s up?”

He grabbed a file box off his passenger seat. “Just thought I’d add to the pile.”

“You didn’t need to get me a house-warming gift.”

“If you want me to get you a gift, you’re gonna have to have a house-warming.”

“Alright. Then I’m curious. What’s in the box?”

“Evidence. Former Evidence. Stuff of your father’s from the investigation. Now that we’ve got Hesse-”

Steve cut in solemnly, “Coast guard’s still searching for the body-”

Danny shook his head, “We know it’s him. Nothing in this box is going to change that.” He offered it over to reinforce his point.

“Yeah okay,” he abated, taking the box and placing it on another he was unloading.

“Oh, and,” Danny shoved a hand in his pocket, “here’s the house key,” and produced a key in his hand.

“Keep it.”

“What?” His brow furrowed.

“You keep it. We’re partners,” Steve insisted.

“Okay,” he said hesitantly, still unsure of Steve’s reasoning, but he returned the key to his pocket anyway. “I’m not giving you a key to my place.”

Crossing his arms defensively, he said, “I didn’t ask for one. Did you hear me ask for one?”

“Typically, when someone gives a person a copy of their house key, they expect reciprocation,”

“I don’t want access to the olfactory mine field that is your apartment, Danny. I’m good. Besides the door is five ply low grade fiberboard. I can easily break in if I need to.”

“That’s not-how would you-” taken a bit aback by the remark, Danny took a moment to form his words properly, “Why would you say that? Why would you need to break into my home?” He didn’t need Steve McGarrett breaking into his home at any point in time. Visions of the man in full night commando gear standing over his bed wielding a combat knife in the moonlight flooded his mind. It gave him indigestion.

“In an emergency,” he shrugged simply.

That was an immensely vague statement that didn’t make him feel any better. “I just want you to define what you warrant as an emergency. Because I think your definition and mine are going to be vastly different.”

“An emergency is an emergency.”

“Don’t break into my home,” he insisted.

“What if you’re dying?”

“Let me die.”

“And leave Grace without her father?”

Danny considered for a moment and decided dying was a satisfactory emergency. “Fine. Fine. I will get you a key in case I am dying. But only for use in the event that I am on death’s door. Do you understand?”

“Understood,” nodded Steve.

He was still a bit skeptical. “I don’t think you understand.”

“I do. And I didn’t even want a key to your apartment. I explicitly-”

“Let’s just stop, alright. You got your stuff. That is the only reason I came over here. Thank you for the key.” He turned back to his car.

“Thanks for the box.”

“See you Monday,” he said without turning back around.

“Have a good weekend with Grace.”

Danny felt that somehow he had been conned. That man had an incredible knack for setting him on edge. He was convinced he’d be the death of him. He hoped it wasn’t while he slept soundly on his pullout couch in blissful ignorance. Although maybe that was preferable over a sucking chest wound in a back alley.


	3. 1.2: Some Out of Tune Guitar

# Chapter 1.2: Some Out of Tune Guitar

Steve walked in from the study with two beers to find Danny sitting on his couch completely passed out, patent leather loafers kicked to the floor, and two socked feet propped close together on the coffee table. They were going to have a talk about shoe etiquette later.

Gently, he tapped his shoulder with the end of the cold bottle. “Come on, Danno. Time to get up.”

One blue eye snapped open and trained up at him with a sleepy grumble, “I told you not to call me that.”

“Alright, but you’re missing the party.” He gestured for Danny to take the beer from his hand, then nodded toward the open back door. Upbeat music and laughter could be heard along with the soft crashing of waves on the beach. It had certainly been a long day chasing after a Serbian gang and rescuing Kono. But she deserved a true celebration for graduating the academy. Not just a fist fight with a brutal murderer, getting kidnapped, and the small ceremony they had staged for her at HQ. And Danny had to take part, even if he was a bit wore out.

Danny sat up and took the beer with a sigh, “I’m not a beach person.”

“Who isn’t a beach person?”

“People,” he replied plainly then took a swig of beer.

“Aren’t there beaches in Jersey? Isn’t the entire eastern boarder of New Jersey shoreline? There’s a TV show about it. How are you not a beach person?”

“I’m just not. Okay. I don’t like sand or water or-or-”

“Sunlight?” Steve was starting to wonder if his new partner was secretly a donut-loving vampire.

“Wind. Specifically, the salty turbulent wind found on beaches that musses up your hair and makes it all sticky. Okay? I don’t like that.”

He couldn’t help but crack a smile looking at Danny’s slightly fluffed and out of place bedhead. “Newsflash. You already mussed up your hair on my leather couch. There’s a party outside on the beach. Kono would want you there. Muss or no muss.”

“Yeah, okay,” Danny groaned and got up from the couch.

As he slipped his loafers on, Steve had to hold back a dig about wearing shoes on beaches. Danny had made it clear he wasn’t trying to fit in on the island. Steve could tell that Danny was already fiercely loyal to the task force even if he begrudgingly joined in the festivities. And that he was very much making an effort to fit in with the team, so he let the shoes slide. This time.

“By the way, burgers and beers on the beach between four people does not usually qualify as a party.”

“It does in Hawaii. Come on.” Steve slapped him on the back and steered him through and out of the house to meet up with Kono and Chin. The later was mastering the grill and the former was “helping” him light banter and critique. It was going to be a good evening.


	4. 1.3: You Gotta Be Bold

# Chapter 1.3: You Gotta Be Bold

Steve stared at pictures of burnt out cars and postcards postmarked from Osaka with stick figures and nonsensical writing on the back. He could not fathom their significance. Numbers and codes were scribbled everywhere, some in his father's hand. They obviously meant something, but Steve was coming up with nothing. As he thought, he also half listened to an old high school football game on his TV. He hoped watching the recordings would bring him back to his father. Maybe then he could get into his head and figure some of this out. There was something he was missing, and maybe he saw it as a kid without knowing.

A light knock on the door brought him out of his thoughts. It couldn’t be Danny. He checked the curtain and saw Kono with a small cardboard box. Quickly, he packed up his father’s toolbox before going to answer the door.

“Kono, what’s up?”

“When Chin was a beat cop, he had a sweet camcorder and would take videos of your games for your dad. He thought you should have the tapes.” She offered him the box.

He took it from her. “Thanks, that’s great. But what’s up?”

“Nothing, I just came to bring you the tapes,” she shrugged.

“Chin could have done that. Why’d you offer?” he asked. Kono hesitated. Before it got awkward, he offered, “You want a beer?”

“I should really get back.”

“Come on. Just one. We’ll watch a game,” he said, motioning to the paused game on the TV.

“Sure.”

He grabbed two beers from the fridge and sat with her on the couch. Quietly, they watched the rest of the second quarter.

She finally broke the silence, “I think we should name the task force 5-0.”

“You do?” He was more surprised she had finally spoken up than from the suggestion itself. She had been hinting toward that idea back at the office.

“I know I’m the most junior member of the team, so I don’t really get a say-”

“Everyone gets a say.” 

She continued with a bit more confidence, “What your dad meant by 5-0 really resonated with me. We’re not cops. I mean Danny and I are, but even we’re outside of the normal structure of HPD. They don’t consider us cops. And we operate outside of their restrictions. But we’re doing that same job. We’re protecting the island. So we’re like 5-0. We’re not native to the beat, but we still belong. I don’t know if that makes sense.”

“It makes perfect sense. I think it’s a good name.”

“You do?”

“Yeah.”

“I don’t want to take your family’s thing.”

“You’re not. I think my dad would want us to use it. I’ll talk to the Governor tomorrow.”

Kono smiled to herself and ran a finger around the top of her beer bottle. Watching her as she focused on the movement, he saw her smile fade a bit. Then she spoke seriously, “It will be good for Chin Ho. HPD was his life before he was discharged. And I feel like sometimes he doesn’t think he deserves to be on the task force with us. That just like he sullied Sid’s career, he’s going to sully ours and derail our mission just by being a part of it.”

“He’s a valuable asset to the team. He saved Sid’s life. I could trust no one more than I trust Chin. He’s a good cop.”

“I know. I didn’t mean to,” she cut off her thought then looked up at him, “Thank you for giving him the chance. That’s all I meant.”

“Of course.” He leaned back into the sofa and watched a bit of the game before asking, “So how are you liking the job? Aside from having to kiss Danny. I promise. Never again. I’ll take the bullet next time," he offered with a chuckle. 

Kono laughed deeply, “He wasn’t bad.”

“Really?”

She nodded, “I could tell he was holding back, trying to be a gentleman. Very soft.”

“Huh?” He felt bad having to use her as a distraction that way. It had been effective, but he wanted to make sure she knew they weren’t going to make a habit of it. She seemed completely fine with the situation. And apparently Danny was a respectful kisser. “Good. That’s good. And the rest of the job?”

“I’m loving it. We have a good team.” She gave him a big wide smile that made her squint She always had the best smiles. They were genuine and bright.

“We do.” He smiled back. 5-0 was gonna do great things.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter has been updated to remove some unintended spoilers. I thought Steve knew things when he didn't.


	5. 1.4: Trees to Hang Their Hope

# Chapter 1.4: Trees to Hang Their Hope

Steve watched Mary as she lay on her back playing with a peony she’d picked from a nearby bouquet against his protests. She had always had a certain blithe approach to her actions. He wished he could see the world as she did sometimes, instead of analyzing every action, every situation, every person in his life. His focus shifted to study how the wind softly played with the trees, the sunlight danced through the rustled leaves, and the shadows leapt around the bright green grass. It was a beautiful day for a picnic and to visit their father’s gravestone.

“So like, why are you still here?”

“What do you mean?” He looked back at her. The peony lay in her hand on her chest and she watched him inquisitively.

“You went to the funeral. You shot Dad’s killer. Aren’t you still a SEAL or something? Isn’t that your whole life? Why are you still on the island? Why are you in Dad’s house?”

“If you want the house-” he started before she cut him off.

“I don’t care about the house. It isn’t my home. It barely ever was. This is about you? It seems like you put your whole life on hold because of Dad’s murder. And now you have this job out of nowhere that's not your actual job. What is this task force thing about?”

“It’s about protecting the island.”

She wrinkled her nose against the peony. “But don’t the police already do that?”

Steve sighed, “But sometimes there’s bigger threats that the police aren’t prepared to take on either because of their policies or training.”

She smiled up at him, “So they send the big angry Navy SEAL after the real badies?”

He chuckled softly, “Yeah, exactly.” He aimlessly played with his fingers while he thought. “We have the authority and means to take on greater threats. Maybe it’s not the same as keeping the world safe in the Seals. But I’m keeping Dad’s world safe. I can be just as useful here as I can be anywhere else. Hawaii is a critical theater on a local and global scale.”

“Okay. Okay. I don’t need the pamphlet and pennant. I just want to make sure you’re staying for the right reasons.”

It was nice to know she cared. He smiled, “Did I pass the test?”

“Yeah.”

As he thought over their conversation, he realized something, “Hey, I’m not angry.”

“Danny seems cool.”

“Ah. Don’t change the subject. And stay away from Danny. He doesn’t need you adding to his problems,” he threatened with a firm finger pointed at her.

“I do not cause problems,” she propped herself up on an elbow and objected.

“You were arrested the minute you got here,” refuted Steve.

“Yeah yeah. I’m just glad to see you have a friend for once. Okay? I think he’ll be good for you.”

“Danny and I aren’t friends. We’re partners. We work together. And I have-I have friends.”

“Really who? Name one.” Before he could respond she added, “who isn’t on your SEAL team -or Joe. You never had real friends when we were growing up. You were like the most asocial football jock in existence.”

“I hung out with people,” he said defensively.

“You hung out with Dad in the garage working on that ancient car.”

“I had friends.”

“Did you actually like any of them?”

Steve frowned, “One or two,” He started to think through all the people he remembered from high school. There were not many he remembered being close with, let alone at all. “Maybe.” He had never considered himself a non-social person. In fact, he would have described himself as approachable and friendly when he wanted to be. But maybe Mary was onto something. Or maybe she was just needling him as siblings do. “Is it pick on your brother day or something?”

“To be fair I have eighteen years of teasing to make up for.”<strike></strike>

“Yeah okay. Does that mean you’re staying on O'ahu?”

“I think so. I’m gonna try it out anyway. Not like there’s anywhere better for me to stay.”

“Mhhmm. You have active warrants out in California, don’t you?”

“I do not!” She grabbed a handful of grass and threw it at him.

He instinctively threw his arms around his face in defense. “Hey!” She lunged at him, relentlessly tickling his side. He caught her in a hold and returned the favor. A flurry of laughter and pleading erupted from her as she tried to escape his grasp. They definitely had some time to make up for and this was just the start. 


	6. 1.5: Wind Up in the Chase

# Chapter 1.5: Wind Up in the Chase

Thankful that Rachel allowed him an extra day, Danny limped up to Steve’s house cane in one hand, Grace’s small hand in the other. Steve had offered a game night seeing as their weekend plans had been tossed by a body in the reef. Mary answered the door, a beer in hand.

Danny put on a forced smile, “Mary, what a pleasant surprise.” Steve had failed to mention that his delinquent sister would be present. They would have a discussion about that later.

“I’m not here. I’m just answering the door. The two nerds are over there. Too busy being nerds for social courtesy.” She let the door swing open to a ridiculous scene with Steve contorted behind the TV trying to hook up cables, and Chin sitting legs crossed on the floor messing with the connectors for an Atari 7800 resting on the coffee table. Danny had a quick flashback to his friends in middle school on the ruddy yellow shag of his parents living room playing out a much similar scene.

“Are you sure this thing even still works?” Chin asked, then blew air into the connector in an attempt to clean it.

“It has to,” grumbled Steve from behind the TV.

“It doesn’t have to do anything. It’s older than Kono.”

“Hi, Danny. Hey, Grace,” Kono pipped up from the couch. She also had a beer and was obviously enjoying watching her cousin and boss get bested by antiquated technology.

Danny slowly waved back at her. He was a little confused by the situation. He had thought Steve had invited them to a board game night. Thinking back, he was fairly certain Jenga had come up. Atari was a far cry from little wooden blocks threatening to fall at any moment. Grace was a bit more enthusiastic. She smiled and waved at Kono bouncing on the balls of her feet clearly torn between running to join her on the couch and stay by her dad’s side.

Mary closed the door behind them and asked, “Beer, Danny?”

“Sure.”

She looked down at Grace. “We’ve got OJ or water? What’s you’re poison, kid?”

“Water please,” chirped Grace with a big smile.

Grace finally gave in and ran to Kono on the couch who accepted her with a big hug. Danny sat down next to her and leaned his cane against the side table. Skeptically, he watched the others continue to fuss with game system. “How long have they been at it?” he asked Kono.

“Hmm. Almost thirty minutes now.” A deck of cards appeared in Kono’s hands. “You wanna play go-fish, Grace?”

His daughter nodded enthusiastically in response. At least they would have fun. Danny was starting to regret using his one day with Grace this week on whatever this was going to turn into. Mary returned with their drinks, then left without another word. While he wasn’t thrilled with Mary and Grace occupying the same space, he still felt a pang of guilt. Mary was also alone on the island. She probably had few friends left from her childhood and was obviously living with Steve. Maybe he should have made more of an effort to welcome her into the game night.

He was distracted him from his thoughts by a flash on the TV screen. A feeling of dread washed over him as the Ms. Pac-Man opening screen flickered ominously in front of him. “No.”

Kono cheered and Chin pumped a triumphant fist in the air. Steve appeared from behind the screen with a bright smile. “You ready, Danno?”

“No.”

Steve grabbed up the controller and offered it to him, “Come on, triple banana. Show me what you got.”

He glared at him with the deep-seated hatred that could only come from being lured into another man’s home under the rouse of a simple game night and then put on the spot.

“Don’t give me pouty face. It’ll be fun.” That evil grin could curdle cheese. It surely unsettled Danny’s stomach in a hurry.

“It’s been years,” he groaned

“Oh, so you’re gonna talk the talk, but when it comes time to walk-”

He grabbed the controller before he could goad him any further. “I’ve got the walk, alright,” he said confidently, “I just,” he hesitated. It had been twenty years since he’d last played. He wondered if getting back into Ms. Pac Man was anything like riding a bike or more like playing mumbleypeg. “I might be a little gimpy is all.”


	7. 1.6: Drift into the Zone

# Chapter 1.6: Drift into the Zone

There was dirt between the doors and the side paneling. There was dirt inside the mirrors. There was dirt splattered on the interior ceiling and clotted into the stitching of the front seats. There was so much dirt in the wheel wells and caked on the undercarriage Danny wondered if there was any dirt left on the strip of mud Steve had called a road.

Why did Steve always insist on driving? Why did he always insist on driving his Camaro? Why did he always insist on driving his Camaro over dirt trails? Why did he always insist on driving his Camaro over dirt trails in high-speed car chases? He had a truck. Trucks were meant for dirt. Camaros were meant for asphalt black tops. Maybe concrete. Never dirt.

He sighed and continued to meticulously clean his car. It was unbearably hot. He was tired of cleaning. The repetitive motion of scrubbing and waxing had strained his shoulders and upper back. The tension in his neck only increased when he found a new ding most likely from a stray rock kicked up during the chase. He grumbled to himself.

“So you do own something other than slacks and a tie.”

Danny popped up from buffing a forward wheel rim and spun around to see Steve carrying two neon blue frozen drinks each decorated with a slice of pineapple, a cherry, and a little umbrella. Blue Hawaiians. He scowled at them suspiciously.

The man could move like a cat and Danny hated when he snuck up on him especially when he came bearing gifts. “How long have you been standing there?” he inquired.

“Not long. You’re wearing shorts.” Steve had a wide grin as he slowly looked him up and down.

It made Danny feel a bit like a plate of New York strip. But if he was going to be a slab of meat at least it was a good cut. He smirked back, “Surprising, I know.” He threw his hands out to show off his ten-year-old ratty gym shorts and faded freebie t-shirt from a gym he went to once in Newark. It was the height of fashion especially soaked in sweat and water and covered in flakes of mud. 

“And look at that. No shoes,” Steve chuckled and offered him one of the drinks.

Danny frowned at the little red umbrella, “I don’t think colorful drinks are my thing.”

“But you liked it,” he insisted.

“I like a lot of things. Very few of those things turn my tongue blue for four hours.”

“Come on, Danno. I’ll have a blue tongue with you. Besides, there is no one else here to see you or your tongue.”

Steve had obviously put a lot of effort into the drinks. And he was thirsty. He conceded and took the frozen drink from his hand. Just holding the glass cooled him down immensely. As he took a sip, he couldn’t help but break into a smile. The citrus and coconutty concoction was like a burst of sunshine as it hit his tongue. It was quite possibly better than the one they had had at the hotel the day before. But he would never admit that to Steve.

“There you go, buddy,” Steve beamed and patted him on the back. Then he wrapped an arm loosely around his shoulder, gazing at the Camaro. “All cleaned up? It looks good.”

“No thanks to someone.”

“I was making drinks. You’re welcome, by the way.”

Danny huffed about to sling back a retort then gave up. He was too wore out to engage in banter with his partner. He couldn’t help but smile as he looked over his handiwork. The Camaro looked better than it had in a long time. Freshly washed and waxed. It was a job well done. And now a much-deserved reward was at hand. “You made more of these, right?”

Steve hummed, “I can.”

“Good.” He took a long sip, shrugged Steve off his shoulders, and made his way to the backyard intent on enjoying the rest of the evening in peace.


	8. 1.7: Cost of the Wood

# Chapter 1.7: Cost of the Wood

Steve sat on his lanai cleaning up his scuba gear and reorganizing his sea bag. As he scrubbed and listen to the distant crash of waves on the sand, he let the stress of the day melt off his shoulders. He hummed to himself softly. It was a peaceful way to wind down from the excitement of a hostage situation and storming a defunct military vessel turned floating museum. He smiled knowing they had done good today, clearing a fellow SEAL's name and saving his adopted daughter from kidnappers.

The positive effects of his work sure were more immediately evident with the 5-0 than they ever had been as a SEAL. There had often been times where he questioned if they were even stemming the tide of terrorism and corrupt governments. There had always seemed to be another dictator, another militant group. And maybe the task force wasn’t tipping the scales here either. There would always be more threats, more criminals. But at least the effect was visible here. At least he got to see some smiling faces.

“Hey, Aquaman, you home?” Danny’s shout roused him from his contemplative state.

He heard the distinctive catch of his front door closing. His partner had the loudest un-stealthy movements except when entering his house unannounced. He got up from the wicker chair and walked over to the entryway to find Danny clambering through his house with two six-packs of Longboards and a bag full of take-out. From the packaging he guessed Chinese food.

Steve sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, “Danny? Would you knock? Please? This is not why I gave you my key.”

“Oh, so you don’t want this beer?” he smirked, hefting one of the six packs onto Steve’s dining table.

“That’s not what I said.”

“Because I can leave and take all this free beer and dim sum with me to,” his brow furrowed, “what was it you called it?” then his face lit up as he remembered Steve’s jibe from multiple weeks ago, “my olfactory mine field.”

“Stay alright. Just knock next time.”

Steve traded the Longboards Danny had brought for a few cold ones already in his fridge as Danny set up plates and the take-out on the coffee table outside. Then they sat in silence for a long time simply enjoying the meal and the company.

Steve swallowed one of the most delicious shaomai he’d ever tasted. “This is really good, Danno. How’d you find this place?”

“The victim, or Chin really. There was a menu for Wong Lee at the crime scene, and Chin said it was the best dim sum on the island. After that, I was just thinking about pork buns all day.” 

“Hmm. So other than learning about the culinary hotspots of O’ahu, how was working with Chin?”

Danny cleared his throat. “Chin’s good. More than good. He’s a sharp detective and very professional.”

He smirked at the obvious change from Danny’s normal day since joining the task force. “He didn’t hang anyone off a building?”

Danny let out a surprised chuckle, “No, he did not.” He took a swig of beer, and Steve saw his face drop just enough to be barely perceptible. “It was a bit boring actually. All I could think about was you on that ship.”

"And pork buns"

"Well-"

“I was fine, Danny.” He tried to sound reassuring. It didn’t seem to have the desired effect.

“You weren’t. But I know,” he paused to look down into his beer, and said, “I know what you’re saying,” before taking another swig. 

He wasn’t going to be able to keep his partner from worrying about him when they weren’t working together. But it was nice to know that he did. “Here’s to another case solved.”

Danny smiled and clinked his bottle with Steve’s. And they could always meet back at his place to drink beer. 


	9. 1.8: Amaryllis Bloom

# Chapter 1.8: Amaryllis Bloom

Steve sat with Danny outside Amy Hanamoa’s home drinking slightly warm beer. Meka’s wake was winding down. He had promised Danny he’d stay and help clean up. But when he’d noticed his partner was getting a little antsy, he had steered Danny out of the crowded living room and onto the patio.

They had been sitting in silence for some time now. Danny sighed deeply letting some of the tension out of his shoulders. Looking at Danny expectantly, Steve waited for him to say something. Anything. There was obviously something on his mind. But he remained silent.

“It’s been a long two days,” Steve offered.

“Hmm. You got that right.”

“How you holdin’ up, bud?”

“I’m just,” Danny sighed again. He didn’t speak for another minute or two. “I’m just running through everything in my head. I did stuff,” he winced before continuing, “I’m turning into you.”

In the last few days, Danny had surprised him on multiple occasions. He’d seen a man driven and desperate to right a wrong against his close friend. But he had also seen a man confident and unshakable in his loyalty and belief. He was sure Danny saw it differently. “Is that such a bad thing?”

A large frown spread across Danny’s face. “I strapped a guy to the hood of my car, Steve. Normal people don’t do that. Normal cops,” he shook his head, “get arrested for that. Should get arrested for that. Anyone should.”

It was a valid argument if they hadn’t been part of the 5-0 task force. If they hadn’t been given the freedom to operate as they saw fit. In this case, it meant a major drug dealer and the cop he had under his thumb were now behind bars, “We got Ochoa and Kaleo. Meka got the ceremony and recognition he deserves. And Amy and Billy will be compensated for life. You did a lot of good, Danny.”

“But at what cost?”

Cost. Steve had operated under so many missions where the cost was never factored in, only the result. It was hard for him to operate any other way. It occurred to him that Danny operated every day weighing the multitude of repercussions associated with every one of his choices. It was a hefty burden to carry. Especially, if you couldn’t in-clear-conscience accept the good impact at the end regardless of means. “If you had the chance to go back and do it over. Would you do it again?”

“Yes,” Danny said matter-of-factly. But then he abated, “And that’s what scares me.” When he looked up at Steve, his face was full of anguish. “I don’t think that slimeball would admit to it any other way. It’s that fear of death shit you’re always talking about. And I don’t like it. I don’t like operating with it. Bad cop, worse cop is not how I want to play this job every time. Because when do we start becoming the criminals?” He let his head hang and rumpled the hair on the back of his neck. “There’s a part of me that thinks, as long as we hold the scissors to cut through the red tape, we already are. All of that procedure and policy exists for a reason. And sometimes it’s infuriating. And sometimes it’s used to do wrong. But we can’t just ignore it because we don’t like it or it’s holding us back.”

Steve knew Danny had been conflicted from day one with how the task force was designed to operate. And he was starting to fear that there was nothing he could do to lessen that contention. All he could do was take the onus off him. “But here’s the thing, Danno, as you continue to so kindly point out, I’m not a cop.”

“The Navy has rules.”

He scrunched his nose in dispute, “SEALs not so much.” Placing a reassuring hand on his partner’s shoulder, he added. “Look if this bothers you so much, I’ll stop you next time.”

“Then we won’t get the bad guy,” he said forcefully with a tinge of defeat.

Steve shrugged, “Maybe we will. Maybe we won’t. Leave the creative interrogation techniques to me. Okay, bud?”

Danny nodded slightly and seemed satisfied with the suggestion. Or at least more accepting of it over continuing to spiral into investigative anarchy himself. Again, they fell into a collective silence as they finished up the last of their beer. This time it was a bit more comfortable. Danny’s shoulders were noticeably less tense and his expression, while still mostly vacant in thought, wasn’t edged with apprehension.

“You are a cop though, you know that, right?” Danny posited quietly. “You’ve got the instincts of one anyway. You knew we had to go to Sang Min. And I never would have made that connection.”

Steve hummed in response, “You would have. Eventually.”

“I don’t think so.” He shook his head then looked up at Steve. A soft smile spread across his lips and creased his eyes slightly.

A shaky chuckle bubbled up from Steve’s throat as he asked, “What’s that look for?”

“You’re wearing a tie. You look very professional.”

“It’s a uniform, Danny, it requires a tie. And a jacket. And pins. And a cover. And corframs. It’s fucking hot. I’m drenched in this thing.”

Dark navy-blue wool blend never mixed well with island weather. It didn’t help that there wasn’t much of a breeze in the Hanamoa's backyard. He was in much need of some air conditioning. Unfortunately, wool-blend was also a very good insulator. He had the sneaking suspicion he wouldn’t truly cool off until he was able to shower and change at home.

A swift tug at his tie pulled him out of his overheated thoughts. He met Danny’s pearlescent baby blues as he adjusted his tie ever so slightly. And suddenly more than just the sweltering Hawaiian sun was making Steve hot under the collar.

“Well you look nice. You should wear more ties.” A light pat on Steve's shoulder then Danny was up and retreating into the cool interior of Amy’s house. 

Steve sat dazed for a moment before he could collect himself and follow suit. 


	10. 1.9: Rusty Neon Glow

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay, guys. Life has picked up a bit and I've found it hard to set time aside to watch more episodes and create new chapters. Just two this week. Hopefully I'll have more for you next Sunday ^_^

# Chapter 1.9: Rusty Neon Glow

As they turned onto another street Danny realized where they were headed. “We’re going to your house. You said we were going to get beers.”

“And you kindly pointed out that I don’t have my wallet. Don’t need a wallet to drink beer at your own house.”

Danny had flashbacks to the firefight that had occurred only the night before. There were bullets and casings everywhere. Bodies. Well hopefully the coroner had taken all the bodies by now. “Isn’t it still an active crime scene?”

“HPD released it about an hour ago.”

“And you want to drink there?”

“We drink there all the time,” Steve said plainly as he turned onto his street.

“Not immediately after spending the night getting shot at by and subsequently murdering a close friend there. Besides it’s a wreck.”

“He wasn’t your close friend. And it’s just some bullet holes and fire damage. A couple broken windows maybe.”

He was trying to sound reassuring. It wasn’t working for Danny. Especially when the patchy blackened yard came into view. As they pulled into the drive, the chaotic mess behind the broken windows became clearer. This was not a good way to cope. There was no way drinking in this mess would be healthy for Steve. Danny started to regret asking if Steve had had his wallet. He would have just paid the tab to get him out of his wreck of a house and away from the thousands of little reminders of the pandemonium that had occurred the night before. It was too late now. There would be no changing Steve’s mind.

“Still looks better than your place.”

Danny turned to looks at the sickeningly sarcastic smirk spread across Steve’s face. “I take it back. There is something distinctly non-human about you,” he growled then he climbed out of the car. He grabbed his phone and hit “9” on the speed dial as he slammed the passenger door shut.

Steve popped up from the driver’s side and demanded, “So are we drinking here or not?”

“I’m ordering from Old Peking. What do you want?” he shouted without looking back as he walked toward the front door which was still draped with crime scene tape.

“Sesame beef!”


	11. 1.10: A Lone Red Rover

# Chapter 1.10: A Lone Red Rover

They had been at Side Street Inn for a while eating their food in practical silence. The car ride here had been in silence. Aside from ordering they had waited in silence. Danny had perked up when the food had arrived but after a few happy noises while eating he had settled back into silence.

Steve was floundering. The few attempts he had made at conversation were met with short grunts and soft acknowledgements. Danny was obviously deep in thought. He wasn’t eating as quickly as he usually did. And all Steve could do was sit and watch the gears turn.

He wanted to know what was bothering his partner. But he also knew in this case it may not be his place. It most certainly had to do with Rachel. And Danny had never been very open with him about his relationship with his ex-wife beyond whatever dispute they were currently having over Grace. But never once had he talked with Steve about their time together or how it all fell apart.

He was interested. He had been before since it was an obvious stressor for Danny. But this case had been his first insight into his partners previous marriage. And everything had been completely unexpected. Having seen how the two interact, having met Rachel himself and liking her as surprising as it was, his interest was peaked to an almost insufferable level. And he was hanging on the edge of his seat as he watched Danny eat in complete silence.

He decided to use some of his nervous energy for both their benefit and got up to grab beers from the bar.

Steve headed back to the table. Danny looked up at him at the sounds of the bottle on the table. “Thanks,” he said softly sliding the beer closer to him.

“No problem,” Steve shrugged before taking a long draught of beer. After a few more moments of silence he gave up “So you want to talk about it?”

Danny looked back at him in surprise. “About what?”

“That long look on your face.”

“I don’t have,” he began to argue then he sighed, and his shoulders slumped all the fight out of him. “I,” he began again but fell silent without a second word.

Steve smiled suspiciously. He’d had a theory, but he wasn’t entirely sure of it until now, “You still love her,” he mused.

Danny glared at him. “It doesn’t all just go away when it falls apart, Steve. It’s complicated.” He sounded annoyed more than anything. But how was Steve supposed to have known before now. The way Danny raged about her, one would assume Rachel was a movie villain constantly coming up with more and more nefarious schemes to befuddle and burden the hero’s life. She was surprisingly normal in person.

“So explain it to me.”

Danny picked at his potatoes with his fork, “Can we not? I’m done revisiting my failed marriage today. I’d rather just sit and drink beer if that’s okay with you?”

He sounded so fragile that Steve felt guilty for being nosey. “Yeah, of course. Whatever you want, buddy. You just seem a bit stressed is all.”

“I seem stressed?” An ounce of the usual Danny frustration found it’s way back into his voice.

“Yeah, Danno. You do.”

Danny winced at Steve’s term of endearment for him. Then he grumbled through gritted teeth, “Well, the two most exasperating people in my life finally met today and they hit it off spectacularly. So I’m not really sure what part of that would stress me out at all.”

Steve shook his head. Once again Danny was jumping to conclusions, “She seemed cool, Danny. But I know how much she’s tried to put a wedge between you and Grace. No matter how good her intentions may have been that’s definitely not okay with me. You’re a good dad. And if she can’t see that, she’s not as cool as she seems.” He added a little quieter, “You know I’ve always got your back. We’re partners.”

“I know. It’s just,” Danny grumbled in frustration, “she does all this shit today. Helping us with the case and crashing her car and being nice. It’s all confusing because I know she doesn’t see life married to a cop as normal. And that’s all she wants. A normal life. Which somehow constitutes moving to this coconut laden island and living in that massive house with an emotionally stunted suit who’s never around for her or Grace. At least when I wasn’t around, I was helping people. He’s just,” he gestured wildly in confusion, “making more money or stealing candy from babies. I have no idea. And I get that I can’t provide her with massive furniture and country club memberships and tennis lessons for Grace and all that crap on a cop’s salary. But it’s all just stuff. You don’t need stuff to be happy. And I didn’t think Rachel did either. I thought she was content in our small house in Weehawken and barbeques with the squad and public school for Grace.” He scoffed before adding pointedly, “And I mean _she _ran into _my_ cop car. It’s not like she didn’t know what she was getting into. I’m a cop. I’m always gonna be a cop. It’s who I am.”

“And you don’t have to change that. Maybe she just gets it a little more now. Maybe this is just baby steps to you guys being more amicable about the divorce. Which will be better for Grace, right?”

Danny sighed again and said, “Yeah. Maybe,” before taking a swig of his beer.

There was a small part of Steve back in the deepest corner of his mind that hoped Danny and Rachel didn’t get back together. He told himself it was because he knew how much the two set each other off and it wouldn’t be good for either of them, and especially not Grace. But he wasn’t completely convinced that was the only reason. But whatever other reasons he came up with to explain the sour pit in his stomach whenever he thought about Danny and Rachel together didn’t make sense either. Whatever it was, he resigned himself to not thinking about it and just enjoying the rest of the afternoon drinking beers with his partner.


	12. 1.11: Is It Just Smoke

# Chapter 1.11: Is It Just Smoke

Steve had spread all the contents of his father’s toolbox on the dining room table and let Chin start sorting through it while making dinner. Steaming the awa they had caught and defrosting a garlic pineapple sauce he had in the freezer didn’t take long. The sauce paired with the fish surprisingly well. Then he laid the fish filet on a bed of garlic herb cauliflower mash. It was a satisfying and fresh meal.

Having finished eating, he now stared expectantly at Chin whose trademark silence was starting to peak Steve’s impatience. He had been looking over the contents without a word for almost half an hour, obviously deep in thought except to take small bites from his plate.

Steve tried to temper some of his nervous energy by cleaning up the kitchen then grabbing a second helping. When he returned from the kitchen with his seconds and two fresh beers, Chin was still standing in quiet contemplation.

He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose for a moment, trying to stay silent. Chin was a brilliant detective and Steve wanted to let him absorb it all in. There was a lot of information to process. He had been looking at it for months. Chin had been looking at it for minutes. Forty-three minutes to be exact. And while he respected Chin’s approach, he preferred a more a talkative approach. He gave up on waiting.

“So these photos we can assume deal with my mother’s,” he paused a moment having trouble getting used to the fact, “murder. It looks like a car bombing. Which is insane. I don’t know how my dad kept that a secret from,” It was hard to fathom how many people had to be involved in the cover up or how many lies his father had told. It had obviously been necessary. His recordings often talked about not trusting anyone in the police force. But how far did this go? “from everyone. Why didn’t he tell me? Or Mary? Didn’t we deserve to know?

“He wanted to protect you. Keeping this a secret, sending you to the mainland it was all to protect you.”

“Eighteen years and he never said a word.” That fact kept needling at Steve. How much had his father kept from him? What else would he find?

“He obviously still needed to protect you. He never closed the case. But knowing he would die at Hesse’s hand he needed to pass it on to you. He loved you and Mary. All of this was out of love. You can’t question that now.”

“Yeah. You’re right. Did you find any news articles or anything about the bombing?”

Chin shook his head, “No. And I don’t remember a car bomb ever being reported around that time. Her death was only ever officially reported as an accident. If we had the case file that would clear a lot of this up.”

Chin fell back into thought flipping the photo of the car over and over. He looked back up to Steve, “Could he have stolen the file?”

“I doubt it. He would have kept it in here, wouldn’t he?”

“That would make sense.”

“And I’ve searched the house pretty thoroughly. He had a bunch of HPD files but nothing about a car bombing. I’ll look again just to be sure. But I just don’t think he took it.”

Chin nodded in agreement. He shuffled through some more photos and postcards, looking at each item closely then making sure to place it back in the exact place from which he’d picked it up. He was meticulous to a fault which Steve appreciated. The lack of verbal processing, he appreciated less. Reading Chin was like trying to read writing in the sand after the tide had come it.

Chin placed a watch back on the table. Without looking up he asked, “Have you told Danny about any of this?”

“No.”

“Are you going to?”

There was a part of Steve that knew he should have the minute he’d recruited Danny to the task force. It’s what had brought them together to begin with and had everything to do with their first case. But he just couldn’t bring himself to explain it all the Danny just yet. He feared his partner would take it and run down every alley imaginable. They had other work to focus on and Steve wasn’t ready for his father’s case to get out of his hands yet. He’d only brought Chin in because he was running dangerously low on leads, and Chin had been his father’s partner for so long. “Not yet. I need to know what this is first.”

“It sounds like whatever it is, it has to do with your mother and whoever may have wanted her dead.”

“But some of this stuff is tied to the Yakuza. How could my mother have been involved in any of that?”

“Hmm.” Chin thought for a few moments. “Your dad was in the organized crime unit for a while. Maybe it had to do with one of his old cases.”

“Maybe.”

Chin placed his plate down. It was almost completely spotless. A small trace of sauce by the rim was the only hint that food had ever touched the plate. It warmed Steve’s heart a bit that the culinary connoisseur, Chin Ho Kelly, had cleaned a plate he’d prepared. A small smile appeared on Chin’s face then he said, “Thank you for the delicious meal. It was quite good. However, it is getting late. I’ll start running through your dad’s organized crime cases when I get in tomorrow.”

“Thanks, Chin. I appreciate the help.”

Chin nodded back at him before heading into the living room to leave. He stopped just short of the door and turned back to him. “Steve?”

“Yeah?”

“You should tell Danny and Kono. They will want to help you with this.”

Steve smiled back at Chin, “I will. Tomorrow.”

He’d been thinking much the same thing the past few minutes. This was getting bigger than a bunch of random clues in a toolbox. Some of it was starting to form together, and the web of characters was beginning to expand beyond just his family and the Irish gang he’d been chasing the last four years.


	13. 1.12: No Season Can Contain It

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I decided this chapter will be a bit different. Kono was just so bouncy and adorable with excitement for Christmas at Danny's in this episode I felt it only made sense to write from her perspective. I hope you love it as much as I love her. 
> 
> Merry Christmas in September, folks! ^_^

# Chapter 1.12: No Season Can Contain It

Kono sat on the soft carpeted floor by the coffee table as she sipped at hot chocolate spiked with Irish cream. She could think of no one better to be surrounded with on Christmas Eve night.

Kamekona had situated himself deliberately by the delicious cookies Steve had made. Kono was impressed by the intricate detail in the icing. Kamekona was more interested in the perfect balance of sugar and butter in the cookie. The pile was quickly dwindling, and she couldn’t fault him. They were absolutely wonderful. But he’d also had help from the rest of the room.

Chin munched on a cookie as he sat in the overstuffed chair by the Christmas tree. The Christmas lights strung on the window behind him reflected brightly in his slicked back hair. It warmed her heart how much more content he looked compared to the last two Christmas’s. She wanted nothing more than her cousin’s happiness this season. It seemed she would get her wish and then some. The 5-0 team had truly turned into a family.

Steve sat on the couch across from her softly humming to the Christmas music playing quietly in the background. Kono couldn’t think of a time she’d seen him smile for more than a few seconds straight, but he’d been practically bursting with joy the whole night.

They had all been sitting in comfortable silence waiting for Danny to return from putting Grace to bed. When he finally came back into the living room, he’d shed his Santa jacket for the white tee underneath, but was still sporting the fuzzy red-and-white hat and pants. He was grinning ear-to-ear and Kono couldn’t help but grin back at him from behind her warm mug of coco.

“She’s fast asleep,” he beamed. “Completely tuckered out. It’s really cute. She’s hugging that stuffed animal you got her, Kono. She loves it.”

Her soft grin turned into a great big smile, “Awe, yay.” Kono had heard Grace talk about her dolphin trainer doll fairly often, so she had bought her an adorable stuffed dolphin that was the perfect combination of soft and squishy. Grace’s face when opening the gift had turned Kono’s insides to warm jelly.

Danny moved over to sit with Steve on the couch. “Thank you, guys, so much. It really means a lot. Helping with all of this.”

“You can count on me to be anywhere there’s free cookies and alcohol,” she smirked.

Kamekona chimed in, “We got you, bro. No matter what. We’re ohana.”

Kono chuckled, “That too.”

“We wouldn’t spend this night anywhere else.” Chin mused from his chair.

“Well I appreciate it. And as a token of my appreciation I got you all a little something in your stockings.” Danny motioned toward the stockings he'd hung up around the kitchen counter. Each one had one of their names in little glued-on felt letters.

Kono’s eyes lit up. She had asked about them earlier, and he’d slyly told her they were stuffed with tissues to make them look full. A very convincing lie. A thrill rushed through her now knowing that they were real presents.

“Danny, you didn’t have to,” Steve protested.

“I did though. So go on.”

Kono bounced up from her seat by the coffee table and began passing out the stockings silently wondering what each contained. After she had passed everyone their respective stocking, she started digging into her own without sitting back down. Her hand grasped something plastic and light. Quickly taking it out of the stocking, she revealed a small NERF gun stylized with the HPD colors and insignia.

Kono squealed in glee, “Cool! It’s a novelty HPD NERF gun!” She promptly aimed at Chin’s head and pulled the trigger. The foam dart missed it’s mark a bit low and bounced off his shoulder.

“Hey!” he glared back at her before turning to Danny, “Thank you, Danny. This is my favorite sushi restaurant on the island.” In his hand was a classy looking gift card. 

Danny beamed at him, “I know.”

A sniffle from Kamekona pulled Kono’s attention to him. He wiped a few tears from his eyes as he mumbled, “I love it, you dumb haole.”

Kono leaned over to see Kamekona gingerly resting in his large hand was a little bobble-head bear holding a pineapple. The base of the statuette was inscribed with ‘SOME HAOLE LOVES YOU.’ She giggled to herself and made a mental note to look for it the next time she was at his food truck.

Danny had given each of them great gifts. She wondered what Steve had. He’d been surprisingly silent. She looked over to see him tearing up as well. “Boss man, you alright?” There was a small olive drab object in his hand, but she couldn’t tell more than that.

“Yeah,” he choked out.

“What’d you get?” asked Chin leaning over trying to get a closer look.

“It’s a grenade shaped stress ball,” he grinned and turned his hand so everyone could see.

Kono couldn’t help but burst out laughing. It was the perfect gift for their tightly wound commando team leader. The laughter was infectious and soon everyone was grinning widely. Kono couldn’t remember the last time her heart felt this light. “These are all perfect, Danny.”

“Agreed,” Chin chimed in.

Steve wrapped an arm around Danny. “You did good, Santa Danno. You did real good.”


	14. 1.13: Feeds Your Fiber

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A long overdue update. But it's longer than usual. And hella cute. ^_^

# Chapter 1.13: Feeds Your Fiber

Danny leaned against the investigation screen and watched Steve. He looked exhausted as he flicked through the photographs of the contents of his dad's toolbox. Danny knew he’d seen them all a hundred times. Seeing them now wasn’t going to get him anywhere. Steve needed rest.

“Come on, let’s grab a beer.”

He shook his head the mumbled without looking up, “I’m not really in the mood, Danno.”

“Well you need to at least eat something.” Danny was pretty sure Steve hadn’t eaten anything all day. He hadn’t eaten anything himself since he’d stolen that Snickers from Steve’s freezer. His stomach growled in protest. “Come on. I’ll make you something.”

Steve looked up at that. A little bewildered, he asked, “You cook?”

He pressed a hand against his chest in feigned offence, “Do I cook? You don’t grow up with my mother and not learn how to make her food. You think I’m chatty. She talks the entire time she’s cooking. She has a story for every recipe and then will walk you through every variation she has ever tried. I know them all by heart. I can’t make them as good as she does, but I can make them. So yes, Steven, I can cook.”

It didn’t take much coaxing after that to get Steve to his apartment. Then it was easy enough to shove a cold beer in his hand and sequester him to the living room with ESPN and chips. After he was sure Steve was sufficiently preoccupied, Danny set about preparing his mother’s chicken linguine.

And it was going well. The chicken was roasting, he was beginning his mother’s quick tomato sauce, which she reserved for when she had more guests than expected and he used religiously because he never planned ahead. And who had six hours to spare anyway when forty-five minutes was almost as good?

“Stop! Stop. Stop.”

Danny’s head whipped up from the cutting board to see Steve rushing into his kitchen. He intended to shout back that he should be sitting in the living room resting, but Steve cut him off before a single word came out of his mouth.

“What are you doing to those tomatoes?”

“Cutting them.” It seemed pretty obvious to Danny. Although maybe islanders didn’t understand how tomato sauce worked. That would explain the the piss poor excuses they had for Italian food.

“Is that how your mother cuts them?” Steve continued his interrogation.

He looked down at the messy cutting board covered in tomato juices and an arguably substandard diced tomato. He had just started on the second one when Steve had stopped him. “Well, no. She’s much better at it.”

“Move.”

It was a demand. Not a request. And despite the knife in his hand, Steve shoved Danny out of the way while throwing on an apron he’d lifted from the hook by the fridge. Danny was about to protest when Steve yanked the knife right out of his hand. He tested the sharpness of the knife with his thumb while Danny struggled to form a sentence. Danny was supposed to be cooking for him. Not the other way around. This hadn’t been the plan.

“These are blunt.”

Steve had said it matter-of-factly, without a hint of accusation. But it made Danny feel stupid for trying to cook with shoddy equipment. He’d bought them from a couple moving out of his last apartment complex and never really thought about their condition. He’d made plenty of meals with them and only a few glancing wounds to his hands.

“Oh,” was all he could make out.

Steve pulled out his pocketknife.

“Whoa whoa whoa!” It was Danny’s turn to stop the show. “Cool it, Tarzan. Where has that been? My mother’s pasta sauce does not include pocket lint as one of the ingredients!”

Steve shot him a dirty look and a quick retort, “I keep my knife clean. And, more importantly, sharp.”

“Okay.” He backed down. He’d obviously deeply offended him. And, as a reserve Navy SEAL, he was not a man Danny wished to deeply offend. Especially while wielding a knife, pocket size or otherwise.

Steve set to work on expertly dicing the remaining tomatoes then added, “After I make this, we’ll be going over how to properly sharpen your kitchen knives.”

Danny grumbled an agreement, grabbed a beer from the fridge, and resigned himself to the couch. Steve would call over for next steps and every so often Danny would peak back in to see how things were shaping up. He usually got shooed away after touching a spoon or trying to sneak a taste test.

But Steve seemed content and was at least moderately distracted from thinking too much. So Danny let him be without much protest or nitpicking.

It was not much longer that the food was ready. They sat down at the little two-seater kitchen nook table to eat. There was barely enough space for the two of them. Their knees bumped under the table and Danny was pinned up against the fridge. It all worked a lot better with Grace. She was in fact not a fully-grown man, so that accounted for a lot. But the food smelled amazing. And that's really all the mattered

Danny grabbed up his fork, expertly twisted some pasta onto it, and capped it with a piece of chicken. It all looked right. It smelled right. Time for the final test. He hesitated before taking a bite. No one outside of the Williams family had ever made his mother’s chicken linguine. Or any of her recipes for that matter.

“Just so you know, no one has ever made this as good as my mother. So no pressure.”

“Danny.”

“It’s only no one else in the Williams family can make it quite like her. I wouldn’t get my hopes up is all I’m saying. You’re an islander. Italian food just isn’t in your blood.”

“Would you just eat it. Please.” Steve was waiting for him to try it. He hadn’t even touched his plate.

He had to bite the bullet. Literally at this point. Steve had made an honest effort. It would be rude not to eat it. And his stomach was growling loudly in protest. He shrugged and shoved the fork in his mouth. As the food hit his tongue he froze in place.

“So what do you think? Did I do it any justice?”

Danny barely heard him speak. It took everything he had just to pull the fork out of his mouth.

“Why are you so quiet? I did something wrong, didn’t I? Too much salt? Too much oregano?”

Danny heard him take a fork to his own plate. He didn’t see it. His eyes had closed. He was chewing as slowly as he could.

“Danny, this tastes good to me. What did I do?” Anxiety was peaking into Steve's voice. 

He had to say something. He had to assuage his fears. But the beautiful symphony of flavors in his mouth made it so very difficult to speak. “It’s perfect," was all he could muster. He opened his eyes to look at the man responsible for this insanity. 

“What?” A general look of bewilderment washed over Steve’s face.

“It’s perfect,” he repeated as he dug in for another bite. He was getting flashback to sitting at home at a much bigger table. He heard snippets of his mother’s cooking stories. Large bustling noises of crowds when they were entertaining for a family birthday or Sunday dinner. It all washed over him with each subsequent bite of a chicken linguine he’d swear was his mother’s in a blind taste test. Danny was glad for once that Steve was such a damn perfectionist. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just love the idea that Steve is really good at cooking and loves to make food for his friends and family. Pretty sure Danny's never gonna cook again after this. He'll find a way to get Steve to do it for him.


End file.
